Established 2014 · Still Handleless
They kept the big bottle. They took the handle off it. Six pounds of smooth, wet glass on a rolling boat, and nowhere to put your fingers. Tito’s kept theirs. Gosling kept theirs. Look how that is going for them. We are not mad. We are twelve years into politely asking for the grip back.
A peaceful campaign. Conducted entirely at sunset.
The loop of glass moulded into the side of a 1.75 liter bottle, so a person may lift it.
Pass me the handle.
The single component removed from an otherwise unchanged bottle, for reasons never explained to anybody on a dock.
They kept the bottle. They took the handle.
(informal) The reason a full jug ends up in your hand instead of in the bilge.
She had the handle. The boat rolled. Nothing happened.
All of them concerning one missing piece of glass. We have workshopped these for twelve years. They hold up.
A full 1.75 is roughly six pounds of glass, rum, and condensation. They left the size alone and removed the only part you hold. That is like taking the tiller off a dinghy and calling it clean styling.
Salt spray, wet hands, SPF 50, and a smooth cylinder. We are not asking for a miracle. We are asking for the indentation that kept it out of the bilge.
Tito’s kept the handle. Gosling kept the handle. Their bottles stay in people’s hands, which is generally where you want the product to be. We are not saying it is the whole reason they are enormous. We are saying it is not nothing.
From Maine to the Exumas there are boats pouring new rum out of one beloved, scuffed, slightly cloudy handle bottle from 2012. That is not sentiment. That is a workaround, and it is somehow the best-performing piece of packaging you have.
At anchor, fine. In a fifteen-knot chop, pouring from a handleless jug takes two hands, a braced knee, and a quiet word with the tide. You do not strip the grip off something and call it hospitality.
Since 2014 we have received a golf collaboration, a spiced expression, and a 25-year age statement. What we have not received is one phone call to whoever knows where the handle mold went.
Twelve years of field research, conducted almost entirely at sunset, with wet hands.
Peer reviewed. The peers were also holding drinks.
The classics you would actually wear, plus a few things that have no business existing. Tap what you want and we will tell you the moment it lands.
Heavyweight cream cotton, full seal across the chest. Saves you from explaining why you pour rum with two hands like a toddler with a milk jug.
Same cream cotton, seal shrunk to the left chest. For members who would rather be asked about it than announce it.
Rope brim, woven seal patch, mesh back. Red hat on the dock, watching the tide, waiting on a mold redesign.
Marine-grade, double stitched, brass grommets. Fly it from the spreader so the anchorage knows you prefer a proper grip. Exactly one person per marina will nod.
Three inches, weatherproof, sticks to anything that holds still. Buy one, get ten free. We are not running a sticker business, we are running a campaign.
A big one, sized for the shoulder of a 1.75. Repurpose your favourite handle bottle, refill it with whatever they are selling now, and let the label do the complaining.
Navy neoprene, one grievance per side. Keeps the condensation off your palm so the new bottle stays aboard. Collect all six, lose all six over the transom.
Free, and worth every penny. Your name goes on the standing letter we send the distillery. Twelve years of signatures and not one reply, but the list is getting long enough to be embarrassing.
NOTHING IS FOR SALE YET. TAP "I WANT THIS" AND YOU GET FIRST CALL WHEN IT IS.
One email when the gear drops. One when the handle comes back. If the second one never arrives, we will keep the first one interesting.
Sent annually. Never acknowledged. Reprinted here for the record.
Dear friends at the distillery,
We want to begin by saying we like the rum. We have liked it for generations, through several boats, at least two questionable haircuts, and one wedding where the toast ran considerably longer than planned.
Which is why we would like to know who looked at six pounds of wet glass on a rolling boat and said: they will not need anything to hold on to. We were not consulted. We would have had notes. The chief note being: please do not.
Note that we are not asking you to change the bottle size. You kept that. You simply removed the one part anybody touches. Tito’s kept theirs. Gosling kept theirs. We are not asking for a limited edition, a golf collaboration, or a spiced variant nobody on this dock requested. We are asking for a piece of glass shaped like a loop, which you already know how to make, because you made it for years, and it was perfect.
Bring it back and we will buy it by the case. Leave it off and we will keep refilling our 2012 bottles and printing the hats, which frankly is going quite well.
With genuine affection and mild exasperation,
The Bring Back the Handle Society
Absolutely not. We are not affiliated with, endorsed by, or particularly on speaking terms with any distillery. This is a fan campaign run by people who like rum and hold grudges recreationally.
That is what the list is for. Enough hands go up on an item and it gets made. The jug is already in production in the sense that we own a jug and refuse to throw it out.
We declare victory, retire the seal, and buy an unreasonable quantity of rum. Then we start a new campaign. Early frontrunner is whoever discontinued the proper ice bucket.
Yes. That is the whole idea. That is the tagline. Please read the tagline.